What the Water Gave Us
by Tashash
Summary: The Waking Sea washes all sorts of debris onto the Wounded Coast. Beginning DAII Second Act. FenrisXOC. M!HawkeXIsabela.
1. Slaves and Seashells

AN: Ok, not much to say here except I hope you enjoy. Beginning this just after the start of Act II after the Deep Roads Expedition. Enough of my prattle, on with the fic.

Discalimer: I own nothing and BioWare owns all, much as it breaks my heart to admit it. But I am allowed to play with their toys, YAY! Also "What the Water Gave Me" is not my property either - Florence + the Machine own it.

**Slaves and Seashells. **

Fenris surfaced from unconsciousness, probably only to preserve his sanity by allowing himself to stop the coming argument.

"Daisy, we're in _serious_ trouble here – Somehow I don't think these people will **listen** to what we have to say, let alone **care**." That was Varric's mellow baritone; the Dwarf sounded as close to losing his temper as he ever got.

"Surely if we explain..." That was Sebastian's even, precise voice. So Varric, Sebastian and Merrill; at least all his companions were still alive. Even if he cared little for the Dalish girl the others would be upset by her death.

Fenris decided to add his voice before Sebastian could continue.

"We are at the mercy of our captors. Were they from Kirkwall or close by Hawke's name or our own reputations might hold some weight; but the Magisters could care less."

"Elf!" Was that relief in Varric's voice? Wonders would never cease. "We were worried if you were ever going to wake up – you took a nasty blow to the head, you alright?"

"The headache should leave in time." He replied. The wound ached and his head throbbed but his vision was clear; a good sign.

"We have all only just regained our senses from the drug they used on us. How are you are sure that our jailers are Magisters Fenris?" Sebastian questioned.

Obviously they had not been in the cell long, for his companions had not yet noticed what he had.

"Very." He pointed to a shadowed corner of the room and their gazes followed it.

"Elgar'nan!"

"Sweet Andraste!"

"Shit..."

Ropes leading from the top corners of the square frame and tied to wrists kept the arms apart and up in a V shape. Shoulders and arms had to be screaming in agony because the feet didn't touch the ground; instead they hung just above a large, shallow clay bowl.

Blood dripped into it, drop by drop falling from the toes. Long bleeding gashes across shoulders, down the back, along the buttocks, down the thighs and calves fed the rivulets. The wounds had to be old, as they only bled sluggishly now.

Either that, or there was little blood left to bleed.

In the dim light he could see enough of the figure's pitifully naked silhouette to know it was a woman, a little shorter than Isabela and possessed of a similar figure; well, were she not almost emaciated. Her hip bones were sharp against her skin, her ribs too visible. He could not see her face; it was bowed and hidden by shoulder length hair, but the rounded shell of an ear poked through, marking her as human. The hair might be dark in colour – or the lank ropes of it might simply be filthy, and he could not even begin to guess at the colour of her skin.

"Is...Is s-s-she...?" Merrill stuttered in horror.

"No, she still draws breath, for the moment." Sebastian said.

"Maker's Breath, _why_?" Varric's voice was horrified, and carried pity.

"Because blood is power, and no Magister would ever shun more power." He replied grimly.

"I thought Tevinter still outlawed Blood Magic." Varric stated. Fenris smiled grimly.

"They _say_ they forbid it, in public it is denounced, unlawful. But privately, behind thick doors that block out the screams, nothing has changed. As long as it is in secret, and those used are not missed, a blind eye is turned."

"All the Blood Magic I have ever heard about – they drained and killed outright..." Sebastian said; a sickened question in his voice.

"Only because they did not have the time. But in Tevinter, this is a preferred method, bleeding and then allowing the victim to 'recover' before bleeding again over a period of time. Much more blood can be _harvested_ then, rather than simply leeching it all in one go." Fenris explained, bile rising in his throat as he did.

Silence greeted his explanation. What could be said? They could not help her, behind the bars of the cell and Fenris knew she could not free herself.

"Are we in Tevinter Fenris?" Merrill asked, fear in her voice.

'_And well that she should be afraid.' _He mused.

"It is unlikely. It is a long journey and not enough time has passed. We are likely in one of the old holding pens outside Kirkwall, from when the city still openly traded in slaves. It appears that they are not as abandoned as once thought." He guessed.

"If we are not far from the city our chances of escaping are greatly improved." Sebastian stated.

Fenris looked askance at the noble Chantry brother, as did Varric. Only Merrill looked up hopefully at his words.

"Hate to break it to you Choir Boy, but we're locked in a cell, and I can't pick the lock, they took your and the Elf's armor, your bow, his sword, Daisy's staff and – Bianca! _They took Bianca__!_ "

Fenris sighed. He had hoped it would take longer for the Dwarf to notice to lack of his beloved crossbow.

"..._When I get my hands on those nug-humping bastards!_"

"We'll get her back Varric, don't worry. I'm sure she's just _fine_." Merrill soothed. "Hawke and the others will realise that something's wrong, won't they? They'll come for us?" The Dalish looked at Fenris and Sebastian.

"If our trail has not gone cold before they begin to search for us there may be hope." He admitted.

It simply did not sit well with him to set back and _wait_ for a rescue. After so many years alone he found it hard to trust that _anyone _cared what happened to him, to trust that Hawke and the others would come.

"I will pray that the Maker guides their steps." Sebastian said.

It was not as if they could do anything else.

* * *

><p>Merrill and Sebastian appeared to be praying to their respective deities. He assumed that Varric was still stewing over Bianca's 'abduction'. Hours passed and the light that crept into their prison from the high, narrow windows had almost faded. None of his companions spoke.<p>

Their fellow captive had ceased bleeding at all, thick red droplets no longer falling from her feet. She was still alive though, Fenris could see the shallow rise and fall of her chest.

He felt...empathy for her. At least a Denarius' bodyguard he had never been bled, he had been needed at full strength at all times to protect his 'Master'. But he had seen it done to others, seen the weak wreck it left them as, the pain they endured.

'_If Hawke comes, if we manage to escape, could I-we help her? Would she even wish it?'_

He remembered the mindset, how even the thought of escape or freedom was unacknowledged. How far gone was she to that utter loss of self?

His musing was stopped by the sound of footfalls on stone, he waited and they grew closer until he was sure they were heading for their prison. Fenris tensed, as did his companions, waiting.

The lone guard wore similar armor to the hunters who had tried to trap him the night he had met Hawke, the same dull grey and of similar fashion; basic Tervinter make. He ignored them as he strode over to the bound woman.

Even as he had been expecting it Fenris inwardly winced as the guard drew back his hand and slapped the unconscious woman. Merrill cringed, her hand moving to cover her face and Sebastian was opening his mouth to speak until Varric grabbed his arm and shook his head, his face hard.

A weak moan and a slight upward tilting of the head was the only reaction given. The guard pulled the knots loose from her wrists, revealing raw, abraded skin. Her limp form was manhandled into a shapeless grey robe, the rough wool more cruelty than kindness on the barely scabbed wounds of her back. He half dragged her into the cell to their left, dumped her face down on the earthen floor, locked the cell and left.

As the guard's footsteps faded from hearing, the woman's left hand scrabbled in the dirt beneath it, only a loose layer covered a depression in the earth and her fingers withdrew holding...A shell?

A seashell of some ocean creature, a fine point at one end that flared out in ridges until one side bulged out for the opening that its former wearer had occupied, the top swirling into a cone. Her fingers, nails chipped, worn and cracked, clutched at it and her thumb moved in slow, restless circles around the hole.

Her voice was only barely above a whisper, weak but clear and...Beautiful.

"_**Time it took us...To where the water was...That's what the water gave me...And time goes quicker...Between the two of us...But oh, my love, don't forsake me...Take what the water**_ _**gave me...**_"

She was...Singing?

"_**Lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the overflow...Pockets full of stones...Lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the overflow..."**_

The other were staring, as was he. Merrill's mouth was open; Sebastian looked like someone had hit him on the head – hard. Varric's hands were twitching as if he wished to write the words down.

_**''And oh, poor Atlas...The world's a beast of a burden...You've been holding up a long time...''**_

Who was 'Atlas'? The lover she was asking not to forsake her?

_**''And all this longing...And the ships are left to rust...That's what the water gave us...''**_

'Ships left to rust'. Had she been in a shipwreck, as Isabela had?

_**''So lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the overflow...Pockets full of stones...Lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the overflow...''**_

Why would someone lay in water with 'pockets full of stones'?

_**'' 'Cause they took your loved ones...But returned them in exchange for you...But would you have it any other way?...Would you have it any other way?...You couldn't have it any other way...''**_

That made no sense; no Slaver or Magister would keep a bargain. They would _agree_ to, but break the deal as soon as it was expedient.

_**'' 'Cause she's a cruel mistress...And a bargain must be made...But oh, my love, don't forget me...When I let the water take me...''**_

Fenris gave up trying to understand, possibly the woman was delirious with blood loss, and simply listened.

_**''So lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the over flow...Pockets full of stones...Lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the overflow... So lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the over flow...Pockets full of stones...Lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the overflow...''**_

The echoes of her voice faded from the room, and the only sound now was the rasping of her thumb against the shell in her hand.


	2. The Firebird Magister

A/N: Meet the OC chapter!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

**The Firebird Magister.**

She floated slowly to the top of the murky depths of her consciousness. She remembered being able to think clearly, before pain and weakness sapped her mind. Now it felt like she could barely follow a thought to its conclusion; everything felt...heavy, liquid.

'_Like the water, crushing and salty; waves pounding and pushing you under until the world went dark...'_

In her hand, the left one...Something...Rough and dry in her fingers. Shell – seashell. The first thing she had seen after the dark water. Wrapping her fingers around it, feeling it and knowing she was still alive.

Hers, the only thing that was anymore...Hidden in the dirt, because it was hers, just hers, like the songs that no one here knew. Hers, not anyone else's; not like her body and her blood that were taken by others now. But she remembered when they had been hers, like the shell, like the songs.

Like Atlas.

She whimpered with the pain of memory. Atlas; his cobalt eyes and sandy hair, and strong arms and warm mouth. He had been hers once too...

'_NO!'_

Her hands clenched. No, he was there, she just couldn't see him. If she couldn't see him how could she know if he was gone?

'_Schrödinger's Cat - Just don't look in the box.'_

"Are you alright?" Voice! Touch on her hand!

Instinct and adrenaline had her on her feet and backed into the side of the cell, bars almost touching the _pain_ that was her back, crouching, clasping her shell, wary and waiting.

Others, when had there been others? Four others, caged as she was; one, hand outstretched through the bars – the touch on her hand.

Dark, braided hair; black like a crow feather. Gold-green eyes, big and doe gentle, pale skin; dark tattoos on her face, deer horns and tree branches. Pointed ears; elven. Slender like a tree sapling.

"I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to frighten you."

Soft voice like her eyes, accent with rounded vowels; nice.

"Perhaps that wasn't the best idea Daisy."

Another, short and broad; Dwarven. Deep voice; smooth. Brown eyes, blonde hair pulled into a short pony-tail, gold hoop in one ear, chain of gold balls joined to a circle around his neck, shirtfront open to frame chest hair.

'_Lothario.'_

"Can you understand us?"

A third. Different accent, still nice. Human, chestnut hair and blue, blue eyes. Strong, regal features.

"Give her a moment, being bled makes you lethargic."

The fourth, last one.

She blinked.

Moss-green eyes, tanned skin, sharp nose and chin, high cheekbones, pointed ears, another elf. Dark eyebrows, but white, _white_ hair.

Tattoos, up his neck and chin, stopping at the bottom lip, but pale under his skin and raised as if pushed under, not painted on.

But he talked like **they** did.

"_Who?_" She asked, unable to get anything else out.

"I'm Merrill," Introduced the dark-haired elf. "This is Varric," She pointed at the dwarf. "And Sebastian," The human. "And this is Fenris." The strange elf.

"...Mira. My name is Mira." She replied

It had been so long since she'd said her own name.

"That's a very pretty name." Merrill said.

She blinked again.

'_Odd, happy little elf; Naive, cute... poor thing._'

"Thank you." What else was she supposed to say? "Why are you here?" She might as well start with the basics.

"We were ambushed while scouting the Wounded Coast, there were too many and they overpowered us. Fenris was knocked unconscious and the rest of us were drugged. And now we are here." Sebastian explained.

'_**Really**__ nice accent, could listen to him all day._'

"So what's your story miss? And about that song..." Varric asked.

"What song?" She asked, confused.

"You don't remember? It was quite the performance, especially considering the circumstances." Varric said, with genuine praise in his voice.

"I'm afraid my memory...isn't too good right now. I'm so tired all the time." She apologised.

She refused to think about what that meant. She rubbed her hand over her face, feeling the slack dry skin, the roughness of her hands.

'_Don't think about it...Don't think about it..._'

"I think it went _- __Lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the overflow...Pockets full of stones...Lay me down...Let the only sound...Be the overflow..._" Varric supplied.

"Oh, 'What the Water Gave Me'." She answered.

"What does it mean?" Fenris questioned with curiosity in those green eyes.

She held up her shell.

"What the water gave me." She smiled bitterly.

"You were shipwrecked?" He asked.

"I...I was...drowned." She answered.

"But you're alive." Merrill stated.

"I drowned, the waves pushed me under and I couldn't breathe. Everything was water until it went black. I woke up on a beach, with this." She pointed to her shell. "And then _they_ came." She snarled at the memory. "Now I'm here. That's what the water gave me."

"And 'Atlas'?" Fenris questioned.

"No." Was Mira's reply.

"No?" asked Sebastian, curious.

Her fists clenched and her teeth gritted. "I don't want to talk about it."

"I'm sensing a story there." Varric murmured to himself.

Fenris' head turned moments before she heard it. Footsteps along the stone hallways, heavy boots, bare feet...and the whisper of silk. Her stomach fluttered like it contained a trapped sparrow; she could guess who it was. They all fell silent.

'_Caristianne.'_

She gently placed her shell in its hiding spot, patting the dirt back over it, then sunk down to the floor of her cell and let her head drop against the bars with a dull thump. The footsteps grew closer.

She swept into the room like a living flame, impossibly bright amongst the dull grey armor of her guards and the dreary earth brown the lone slave wore. The wide cerise sleeves of her robe fluttered around her slender arms like wings.

'_Firebird, Phoenix.'_

Magister Caristianne preferred the colours of light and flame to grace her body, they suited her. Almost yellow eyes gazed at the line of cells, malice glittering in their depths.

She stopped in front of the other's cell, ignoring the others she focused on Fenris.

"Even without your friends added into the bargain re-capturing Magister Denarius' wayward bodyguard is worth all the effort. Even without your skills you are quite valuable slave. " She commented.

"I am not a slave." The white-haired elf stated, iron in his voice. The magisters eyes narrowed.

"I hope that delusion will not be too hard to break, it would be tedious." She turned away dismissively.

An imperious, gold-tanned arm gestured for her slave to collect the blood-filled bowl, and a click of her fingers brought it to her side.

She stopped in front of Mira's cell, red tinted lips curved in a false, saccharine smile.

"Look at you all the way over there; don't you enjoy your company slave? That is no way to treat guests, especially after all the trouble I went to to acquire some for you." Her voice was husky velvet.

Mira wanted to rip her tongue out and strangle her with it.

"Hmmmmmm..." One finger dipped into the crimson liquid in the bowl, until a gold lacquered nail was covered in it. "Maybe your energy is finally diminishing, is that it? Let's see."

A red tongue slipping from between red lips, licking at a red-stained finger. The magister hummed.

"Oh, no, still as potent as ever. You really were worth dealing with that posturing male of yours." She commented.

Mira couldn't stop the shaking in her hands.

The magister sighed.

"Still upset over that slave? It's your own fault, naive idiot that you are. Why the power in your blood was wasted on _you_." She criticized.

"I wonder, if you aren't willing to make the first overtures, maybe I should tell your new friends a little about you before you came into my service, about your _lover_?" The magister pondered.

The shaking had spread to her whole body, her teeth were chattering.

'_Shut up, shut up, shut up, shutupshutupshutup SHUT UP!'_

"How he pretended to be your saviour and protector, telling you that he lost you in the storm when he really left you to die on that beach so he could live?"

'_SHUT UP!_'

"How he lied and told you when he found you here alive that he was going to get you out of here; when he was all the while bargaining to sell you?"

'_SHUT UP!_'

"How you were still warm from his bed and his embrace when he cast you aside for coin, like chattel?"

"**SHUT UP** YOU GODS DAMMED **BITCH**!" Mira screamed, her words ending in a shriek.

The bolt of magic threw her to the back of the cell. She could feel wetness on her cheeks.

"You should be glad I killed him for you." Caristianne whispered.

Mira lay on the floor where she fell, keening as the magister glided out of the prison.


	3. No More Dreaming

A/N: This chapter was...difficult and required re-writing which is why it's so late, sorry! Many, many, _many _thanks go to Arquen, critiquer and beta reader extroaidinare and without whom this chapter would have sucked, badly.

Disclaimer: Nothing. Not. A. Thing. Don't own the song 'Blinding' either - once again property of Florence + the Machine.

**No More Dreaming.**

At some point she had cried herself to sleep, or passed out; because it was light the next time she opened her eyes. The way the golden beams of it streamed down through the bars on the high windows meant morning.

Mira had always gone straight from sleep to consciousness with none of the gentle, hazy transition that other people talked about. She wished she did. She didn't want to remember just yet what had transpired the night before.

'_I hate you'_

She just needed to decide who she meant to hate.

"Mira?" That was Merrill's soft voice. "Are you all right?"

She turned her head to look at the pale-skinned elf. Merrill was sitting in the middle of the cell - the sunniest spot she could find. The light sparkled in the gold-flecked scarf she wore.

Mira had to think about that question for a moment.

"No, I'm not." She finally replied, twisting her body a little so she faced the others fully. She stretched out her right arm, using it as a sort of pillow, her left hand cupping her cheek.

"I am sorry, no one deserves to be treated that way; especially by someone they love." Sebastian said with sincerity in his voice.

Mira sighed, the fingers of her right hand traced aimless shapes in the dirt beneath them "It's still the truth; I was an idiot."

"Everything he said and did...Even before, I was nothing to him." Mira continued.

"Love makes fools of us all sweetheart." Varric quoted.

"It wasn't love, it was infatuation." She said in disgust.

"Sometimes they're too close to tell the difference." Varric said gently.

Mira pulled herself up into a sitting position and scooted closer to the other side of the bars, wincing as it pulled the scabs that went from her shoulders to her heels. She braced her shoulder against the cells back wall, balancing on the side of her thigh and hip. She wouldn't be comfortable for long, and it would strain her leg and thigh.

It was the only position that spared her some pain and allowed her to face her fellow prisoners while sitting upright.

"I'm sorry." Sebastian said when she settled. "It must have hurt when the magister hit you with that bolt."

"It...Hurts but it all gets so blurred up in my head. " Mira answered. "I just..." she moaned in frustration. "Everything hurts. _Every. Thing_. I want it to stop. I don't want it to hurt anymore." She buried her hands in her hair, as if by gripping it she kept her grip on sanity. "I don't know how this happened, I don't know why..."

"Hey now its ok little songbird, it'll be fine I promise." Varric soothed.

"'Little Songbird?'" She questioned. He grinned back, unrepentant.

"Sure, why not?" He asked, mirth twinkling in his warm brown eyes.

"You won't stop him," Merrill brightly informed her "He calls me 'Daisy'."

"And I was given 'Choir Boy'." Sebastian sighed, running his hand through his short hair.

"And _I_ just get 'Elf'." Fenris deadpanned.

"Elf?" Mira questioned.

"He said he'd kill me if I used any of the good ones." The Dwarf grumbled. Mira shook her head, and then leaned it against the wall at the wave of dizziness.

'_I can't keep doing this; I can't keep dying by inches. I want...to not hurt, to not __**be**__ hurt.'_

It terrified her, even if she could get away...Where would she go? She was _useless_ here, alone and lost.

'_Atlas threw you away. Caristianne only wants the blood in your veins. And who are you to these people? Even if they helped you, what would they expect in return?'_

She glanced at her shell's hiding place.

'_I have to ask. I __**have**__ to._'

"Fenris...?" Moss-green eyes looked her way. She looked back.

"Yes?" One of those dark eyebrows rose in question.

"Caristianne...She said you were a bodyguard, to a magister?" She asked.

"Danarius. I was his slave, but no more."

"How did you escape?"

"Luck mostly."

"Oh..." She looked away.

'_Stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid._'

She heard the rustle of leather as he moved closer to her side of the bars, kneeling down to her level. The markings on his arms gleamed in the shafts of morning sunlight.

"Mira, look at me." Half suggestion, half command. She looked once again into that face, all sharp angles and full lips and huge, expressive eyes half-hidden by white hair.

"I was a slave, and you at least know what freedom is. I did not miss what I never knew, but I will not let them continue to do this to you. We are getting out of here."

She wanted to believe him, desperately.

'_If I don't take this chance, the wondering will haunt me forever.'_

"I'll go with you." She didn't dare do more than whisper it.

Fenris nodded.

"And that's perfect timing, because I think I hear Hawke coming." Varric commented.

If she listened Mira could hear the muted noise of combat far away.

"Who is 'Hawke'?" She asked.

"Guess you could say he's our leader of sorts." Varric replied.

"He has helped many of us with difficulties, he's a good man." Sebastian added.

"He is a mage, but he is trustworthy." Fenris told her. Mira nodded.

"Just stay back, we'll look after you." Merrill promised.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway toward the prison.

"Why is it that _we_ have to look for them lugging their stuff around?" A male voice whined.

"_Because_ Hawke and Aveline are doing the fighting. _I'm_ needed to pick the locks and _you're _needed in case anyone is injured. So stop complaining." The voice that replied was female.

"But why are we lugging their stuff around? Sebastian's armor is heavy! Not to mention Fenris' damned sword..."

Two people entered the dungeon. The woman was dark skinned and haired, the waves of it were loose around her shoulders. She appeared to be wearing nothing more than thigh high leather boots and a white corset with an azure scarf bordered in gold tied around her hips. A matching scarf covered her head. Mira felt a stab of envy for the woman's lush figure.

She carried two daggers sheathed on her back, a gauntlet and shoulder guard protected her left arm, her right hand had a matching hand guard. A thick, ornate gold choker, set with turquoise circled her neck; large, gold, coin-like circles were pinned to her ears.

'_All in all – quite the knockout.'_

The male was fair in comparison, paler skin and blonde hair pulled back from his face; he had a gold hoop in one ear. He wore weathered robes in dusty blue and pale beige, with a darker leather belt with pockets and packs on it. The fabric across his shoulders was covered in some sort of fluffy feathers and the high, stiff collar was embroidered in gold.

The pair seemed too involved in their bickering to notice that they had found what they were looking for.

"Hey – Blondie, Rivaini; we're over here waiting for our rescue!" Varric called.

'_He really __**doesn't**__ call anyone by their name.'_

The two ran over to the cells, 'Blondie' watching the door while 'Rivaini' knelt in front of the cells and began to fiddle with the lock.

"Well, at least it seems you found a friend here." She commented, not looking up from her work. This close Mira could see her eyes were a tawny brown and she had a gold stud in her chin.

"This is Mira. Mira, this is Isabela and Anders." Merrill introduced. Mira just sat and watched the newcomer's movements. She was suddenly feeling unsettled by all this...thisness.

'_That isn't a word.'_

"It will be alright." Sebastian soothed, sensing her anxiety.

"Got it!" Isabela yelled in triumph as the lock gave way. The four moved out of their cell.

"One of you has her – Right?" Varric asked anxiously.

"Right here Varric, safe and sound." Isabela said as she handed over a massive crossbow of dark red wood with silver and gold metal accents to Varric.

"Oh, Bianca baby I _missed_ you. They weren't mean to you were they? Don't you worry, pinning some of them to the wall by their intestines will make you feel better." He crooned at the weapon.

"Don't ask." Fenris suggested. Mira shrugged. Isabela handed over a pair of silver, spiky gauntlets and a matching chest plate to the elf.

"Bet you felt almost _naked_ without that didn't you?" She teased.

"Is this really the right time?" He asked as he buckled on the chest plate. Isabela only laughed and handed him a huge two-handed sword.

Sebastian had reclaimed his own armor of silver chain overlaid by gold-edged plate and a longbow from Anders who then handed a pale, twisted wooden staff to Merrill.

Isabela approached Mira's cell and knelt to work on the lock, and Mira levered herself up, wincing at the flash of pain across her calves and thighs. By the time she was standing Isabela had picked the lock. The cell door swung open.

Anders moved towards her, but Mira flinched back at his approach.

Anders stopped short and held out his hands, palms outwards. His golden-brown eyes locked with hers.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. I'm a healer, I just want to help, ok? Can you let me close enough to see how bad it is at least?" He asked.

Mira nodded just slightly. Anders moved to stand in front of her, eyes scanning her. She held herself still and stiff, not liking having to let someone she had just met so close.

'_A few months ago it wouldn't have bothered you at all._' She missed that time.

"May I?" Anders asked, hand hovering at collar of her robe on her shoulder. Mira hesitated.

'_It's alright, just stay calm, deep breaths._'

She nodded her agreement, but hissed in pain as the fabric pulled at her skin as he lifted it away to assess the damage. The healer sighed and gently let the fabric fall back.

"I'm sorry, there isn't much I can do here – whatever I could manage would probably be undone by the time we got back to Kirkwall." He explained, Mira just shrugged, not meeting his eyes.

"Come on, the sooner we get out of here, the better." Anders said.

'_I'm so afraid right now. What if this is all a trick? What if I'm just jumping from the frying pan and into the fire...What if?' _

'_Baby steps; just make it out of the cell.'_

Fenris must have sensed her apprehension.

"It's time to go." He said.

"I doubt you can walk very well right now, let me help?" Anders asked. She just nodded, but couldn't stop the shudder as he wrapped an arm around her waist and slung her arm over his shoulder.

'_Atlas used to hold me like this.'_

And suddenly she was afraid she was going to be sick.

Sebastian moved forward.

"Let me take her Anders, the others might need your healing and you will need both hands free." He said.

She felt Anders' gaze on her, but she couldn't look at him.

'_Oh Gods, is it possible to throw up an empty stomach?'_

"Good idea." Anders agreed and transferred her to Sebastian's grip and she couldn't explain why it felt so much less distressing to be held by Sebastian.

A thought came to Mira. "Wait!"

"Already got it." Merrill said, holding Mira's shell aloft. "I'll look after it for you, since you don't have any pockets?" She offered.

"Thank you Merrill." Mira smiled.

They moved off, Isabela and Fenris in front, followed by Anders and Merrill with Varric and Sebastian supporting Mira at the back.

Soon the sounds of battle up the corridor could be heard.

"It sounds like Hawke and Aveline could use a hand. Fenris and I will go on ahead." Isabela called back. Fenris unsheathed his sword and took off at a run. Isabela threw something to the ground and disappeared in the smoke.

The others picked up the pace. Sebastian basically carrying her. About twenty meters ahead the corridor opened up into a huge antechamber; inside was pandemonium.

Isabela melted in and out of view, moving in a graceful, macabre dance as her daggers found their place in unprotected backs, throats and other soft tissues. She was already nearly covered in gore from the sprays of blood, but laughing and taunting "you hit like my grandmother!"

A woman with a ginger ponytail and a plaited red leather headband was wielding sword and shield with crushing, deadly ease. Silver armor with red accents was almost all red now. Mira watched as she rammed an opponent down with her shield then swung her sword down in a deadly slash with the parting words "I deny you!"

A dark haired mage stood in the middle of the room. His arms raised and he yelled as he called lightning to arch and snake throughout the room, striking foes that went into the juddering, shaking death dance of the electrocuted.

And then there was Fenris. Wielding the huge sword like it weighed nothing to him, but the most astonishing thing was...

His markings _glowed_ with sapphire light. It outlined his silhouette, shining around the sharp points of his ears and shimmering over his skin, even through the splatters of blood on him it glowed. One moment he would be still, and in the next he was standing before an enemy across the room, appearing in a blue-white blur like the tail of a comet.

"_Even without your skills you are quite valuable, slave."_

Was this what Caristianne had meant?

She was so distracted that she hadn't even noticed Sebastian putting her down at the entrance to the chamber until he spoke.

"Rest here, I'll stay with you." He said.

She nodded and leaned against the stone doorframe. Sebastian unslung his bow and nocked an arrow to it. She watched him take a moment to trace his target then release it to send the projectile humming until it buried itself in a guard's neck, who clutched at it as he went down, blood seeping over his hands. By then another arrow was already heading for its next victim

Varric sprinted past them, yelling "This is for Bianca, you bastards, say 'hello' baby!"

He had loaded several heavy arrows that literally _exploded_ once they were fired, resulting in a storm of sharp fragments and fire. The guards in the blast area ducked for cover, but several were too slow to avoid the shrapnel. One screamed and clawed at his eyes, red tears dripping from the sockets.

By then Merrill and Anders had joined them. Merrill stood in front and to the side of them as her staff shot bolts of green and purple energy and conjured huge stones that were hurled with bone crushing force. One smashed into a foe running toward them with a dagger and it flew from his grasp skidding along the stone floor to Mira's feet. Merrill then raised her hands and slammed them together and a foe was suddenly entombed in stone.

Anders waited until a group of guards began to run toward him, weapons raised. He stood until they had formed a loose half-circle around him then swept both arms out and across. Frost and cold mist spewed from his hands until the guards were no more than statues of ice. "Teach you to mess with a mage."

And that seemed to be it. The enemies still left alive seemed to be in no state to retaliate and the only sound was that of pain and sheathing weapons. She couldn't believe how _quickly_ it all seemed to happen.

A shrill scream rent the air.

'_Caristianne. No, oh no no no. Oh shit, oh shit, oh fuck.'_

The magister stood at the other entrance across the room, draped in her flame coloured finery. Crimson lips were pulled back over tiny white teeth in a snarl, her flaming curls were in disarray and her golden nails were curled into claws.

"How _dare_ you! Do you know who I am?" She screeched.

'_No, no please I don't want to go back...'_

"Someone who kidnapped my friends unlawfully?" The dark haired mage, Hawke, said jovially. Caristianne's cheeks went red in fury.

'_Don't make her angry, please it hurts so much more when she's angry.'_

"I am a **magister**; I can do as I wish! I -"

A gauntleted hand _exploded_ through her chest; a very familiar gauntlet, with a familiar blue glow.

"You talk too much, magister." Fenris sneered, withdrawing his bloody hand as the body slumped onto the ground.

'_She's dead...she's __**dead. **__She's dead, she's dead, dead.'_

She turned away from the body, just in time to see a guard, who wasn't as dead as he had appeared, rise up behind Merrill and raise his sword.

"Kitten!" Isabela screamed.

'_Floor. Dagger. Merrill. Go!'_

What happened next was...blurry. Mira wasn't sure if she had closed her eyes, or just stopped seeing. She felt scabs on her back and legs rip off wounds as she bent down, felt more open on her back and the muscles in her shoulders burned she raised her arm, felt a moment of resistance, and then the blade caught.

She opened her eyes; her gaze followed her arm, down to her hand, the dagger in it. The blade lodged sideways in the guard's neck, to the left of the spine. She let go and the body slumped sideways. She stared at her hand.

"I...I've...I...I never..." She stuttered.

'_I killed __**him**__! I __**killed**__ him! __**I **__killed him!_'

"Oh shit, I've never, I've never ever..." Mira babbled.

"Easy there now." The ginger-haired woman, Aveline, caught her just before her legs gave out, easing her to the ground. She was shaking so bad she felt her bones rattle.

"It's alright; deep breaths now just breathe." She soothed, petting her hair.

"You saved my life! Thank you!" Merrill rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Mira's shoulders in a hug, and even though it hurt she relished the comfort and just held on for a while.

"I think I'd like to leave now." She finally managed to choke out.

* * *

><p>They had made it out of the caves in relatively one piece, Fenris mused. No serious wounds, but he would be thankful to have his skull looked at. Now that the rush of battle had left it was aching monstrously. He would ask Hawke once they got back to Kirkwall.<p>

'_Still, the chance to put my fist through that bitch's chest __**was**__ gratifying.'_

He had remained calm whilst in the cell, storing his anger and not wanting to frighten the obviously traumatised woman. But to be captured by a _magister!_ He had been furious. And to add insult to injury it had been a particularly dim-witted, narcissistic magister at that.

'_But enough of that, what's done is done.'_

Right now everyone was more concerned about Mira. Aveline was supporting her now and she was still shaking.

'_The poor thing, first betrayed by the man she loved and then used as a magisters tool.'_

Fenris well knew what it was like to be at the mercy of a magister, to be used by one.

What she needed right now was for them to get her to the city and Anders' clinic as quickly as they could. He didn't trust the abomination, but Anders _was_ a gifted healer, and Hawke wouldn't let him harm an innocent. They set off along the sandy track, managing at best a brisk walk. They hadn't gotten far before they came across it.

The best Fenris could describe it was a garden of bones. A hollow near the road with a few small trees and potted shrubs, but decorated in macabre fashion with bones, and not those of animals. They were something of a fad in Tevinter he remembered. There was even a full skeleton, fresh enough to have weathered scraps of skin still on the bleached bones, but the eyes had been pecked out. It was...disquieting.

'_Magisters and their depravity; I am glad to have rid the world of one more today.'_

"We should move on." He said, and the others nodded.

"Wait." Mira slid herself out from under Aveline's arm, limping closer to the 'garden', staring intently at the freshest corpse. She was gazing at the faded tattoo barely visible on a scrap of skin left on the chest. It was a simple design of flowing lines that picked out a kneeling man carrying a sphere on his back. Her fists clenched and she spoke one word.

"Atlas." She hissed the name with venom in her voice, but Fenris could see the glitter of tears in her eyes.

'_She truly did love him. And to see him now and know that he is dead...I cannot imagine how that must hurt.'_

Hawke moved forward as if to touch her shoulder, but Sebastian moved to stop him.

"I think this is something she needs to do Hawke." Sebastian explained. Fenris nodded.

Varric, Merrill, Sebastian and himself waited patiently while Hawke, Isabela, Anders and Aveline stood confused.

"_**Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state...A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake..."**_

"What is she _doing_?" Anders asked. Merrill shushed him.

"_**No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber...Until I realise that it was you who held me under..."**_

But the mage wouldn't be quiet. "Did she hit her head? What-"

"Quiet Blondie, I'm trying to remember this." Varric hissed.__

**_"Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids...Shaking through my skull, through my spine and down through my ribs..."_**

Her firsts were now clenching so hard Fenris could see her knuckles turn white, her eyes were closed.__

**_"No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone..._**  
><strong><em>No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world..."<em>**

Her voice was powerful and defiant, a challenge and a promise.__

_**"And I could hear the thunder and see the lightning crack...All around the world was waking, I never could go back..."**_

Anders was finally quiet, but he didn't look happy about it.

"'_**Cos all the walls of dreaming, they were torn wide open...And finally it seemed that the spell was broken..."**_

Aveline stood where Mira had left, watching the smaller woman with compassion in her eyes. She might not know the whole story, but she could understand.__

**_"And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open...And all my bones began to shake, my eyes flew open..."_**

Isabela moved to stand next to Varric, her head cocked; listening intently.__

**_"No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone..._**  
><strong><em>No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world..."<em>**

"Quite the voice she's got..." She whispered to the Dwarf.__

**_"Snow White's stitching up the circuit boards...Synapse slipping through the hidden door...Snow White's stitching up your circuit board..."_**

"Isn't it?" Varric replied in a soft voice.__

**_"No more dreaming of the dead as if death itself was undone..._**  
><strong><em>No more calling like a crow for a boy, for a body in the garden...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love, so in love...<em>**  
><strong><em>No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world..."<em>**

Hawke seemed to be mouthing the words to himself, trying to puzzle their meaning.

"_**Snow White's stitching up the circuit boards...Synapse slipping through the hidden door..."**_

Fenris just listened. He had given up on deciphering the meaning in Mira's songs. And she did have a beautiful voice.

"_**Snow White's stitching up your circuit board...Synapse slipping through the hidden door..."**_


	4. The Uncertainties of Flotsam

**A/N**: I _despise _real life, which is the reason for the lateness of this chapter (That's my excuse and I'm sticking to it). Once again I worship the Great and Wonderful Arquen who has made sure this chapter is fit to be seen by others.

**Discalimer**: I just play with them.

**The Uncertainties of Flotsam**

"Mira..."

Her eyelids would have snapped open, except they were gummed together by sleep. Yet, the twitch that ran the length of her body was enough to let Aveline know she was awake.

"You must be exhausted. I know for a fact that the Kirkwall Guard armor isn't comfortable for sleeping in or on." She commented, gently letting Mira slide down off her shoulder and supporting her as she found her footing.

"Thank you Aveline. It is Aveline, isn't it?" Mira questioned as she rubbed her eyes clear.

"Yes, and you're welcome." The woman answered.

Mira pulled her hands away from her face and looked around. They were no longer walking along the sandy paths of the coastline.

After she had stumbled and nearly fallen for the third time Anders had called them to a halt. He insisted they either needed to stop and let Mira rest or someone would have to carry her the rest of the way. She'd tried to protest, but Aveline had simply pulled her up and over her shoulder in a fireman's carry. Her armor had dug a little into Mira's belly and chest, but Aveline had simply told Mira to stay there and that was the end of it.

She remembered counting Aveline's footprints in the sand, knowing that each one took her away from the horror that had been the last few months.

**She could still feel the unending pain and torture of the blades ripping through skin and muscle. Leaving burning, bleeding, lines in their wake. Hanging there while Caristiannne stood before her gloating and tormenting her; until she started screaming obscenities just to drown out the words. And then the bright flash of mage-called lightning striking her and washing agony throughout her already pain-wracked body...**

She was glad not to be there anymore, yet those footprints also took her further towards the unknown which was almost as terrifying.

She came back to the present and looked around the large room where she was now. The floor was packed earth and the walls rough, beige brick. A few moth-eaten tapestries in dull orange hung along the walls and from the high ceiling. Two large doors in old, slightly warped, grey wood opened out, and she could see a small flight of stairs ahead. Four columns in the same beige brick, two on each side of the entrance, towered up and into the roof.

'_Where am I now? What is this place?'_

Along one wall patched cloths marked out small rectangle areas. Some were fully blocked out, but a few were tied back, revealing small, low, beds. At the end of the line of little 'rooms' was a larger blocked out square. In the open area were a few small trestle beds and some benches.

'_It looks like some sort of Renfaire sickbay.'_

Despite its ragged looks the room seemed to be filled with a sense of peace. Safety and wellbeing infused the room like the scent of some rare incense. It was then that she realised Aveline had put her down in the middle of this room. She stood there, with nothing at her back and she felt sudden terror - she had not even checked to see who was behind her!

'_Idiot! You aren't safe here!'_

Her heart began pounding uncontrollably and she practically _felt_ the rush of adrenaline through her veins. She whipped her head around, quickly cataloguing only a few strangers in the room she didn't recognise. Then she quickly backed away to the wall behind her until she almost touched it.

Aveline questioned "Are you all right?" She stepped towards her, and while Mira managed to quell the urge to raise a hand to try and protect herself she couldn't hide the flinch from the other woman.

'_If she'd wanted to hurt you she could have done it any point while you were asleep.'_

Mira hung her head in shame and pushed her palms against the rough wall, hoping the sensation would ground her.

"I just...I don't...l-l-like l-l-leaving my b-b-back exposed." She stuttered, and hated herself for it.

"It's alright." Aveline said softly, her sharp green eyes boring into Mira's. "What you feel is alright. It's ok to be frightened, just breathe and let it pass." She instructed.

'_Just breathe, just __**breathe**__. You aren't safe but you're not in danger yet.'_

She felt her heart slow with her breath. Felt herself relax as if she was a piece of string that had been untangled. Something about the tone in Aveline's voice. The confidence in the way she stood, and the competence in her gaze was soothing. It spoke to something in Mira, calmed and grounded her.

"You're very good at that. Talking people down." She complimented Aveline; the woman shrugged with a soft rasp of metal.

"It comes with being a Guard; some people who commit crimes do it out of desperation and it requires a gentler touch. Unfortunately, there are also those who deserve no compassion, and then we have to deal with the victims...or their families." Aveline told her. Mira nodded her understanding.

"Where are we anyway?" She asked.

"This is Anders' clinic in Darktown. It's possibly the only safe place in this part of the city." Aveline told her.

'_Oh, I remember that. What was it he said?'_

"_I'm sorry, there isn't much I can do here – whatever I could manage would probably be undone by the time we got back to Kirkwall."_

"Luckily he hasn't got many patients here right now. Things have calmed down in the last five years, especially after the Blight was defeated."

'_The Blight? What in the hell is that?'_

She was about to ask Aveline what she meant when Anders called out to them.

"Well we'll at least have some privacy to tend to our wounds now." The healer announced as the group drifted toward the two women.

"I would welcome your assistance, Hawke. When we were captured I was hit across my skull and the headache has not left." Fenris admitted, turning to the dark-haired mage.

"Sure Fenris, just-" Hawke began.

"Still don't trust the 'abomination', eh Fenris?" Anders said pointedly, glaring at the elf, who only gave a bland stare in return.

And suddenly the tension was so thick in the air you could practically _chew_ it.

"I simply thought you would wish to tend to Mira, as she was much more grievously injured by the magister than I was." His tone was calm and low, but his derision was evident.

'_This isn't good...What happens if they start fighting? Oh gods, will I be able to get past them to the doors?'_

"Must you two go at it all the time? Especially in front of our guest..." Hawke chastised, gesturing to Mira.

'_What? No, don't put __**me**__ in the middle of it!'_

Suddenly, everyone was looking at her, and she couldn't meet any of their gazes. She hung her head her gaze focused at the floor, and tried to remember how to breathe.

'_Don't look at me, just forget I'm here, I'm not important, just leave me alone, please?'_

"Enough! I'm sure we all have things to do, don't we?" Aveline questioned as she strode forward, mercifully taking the focus of the others off Mira and she could feel herself breathe again.

"Oooh, and now you're getting all 'Commander of the Guard' on us, Big Girl?" Isabela teased.

"Shut up, whore." Aveline replied, sighing as if it was something she said often.

"Um, there is one thing..." Anders said hesitantly "I need to talk to you about something Mira."

"Yes?" She asked.

'_Oh gods please don't let this be about what I think it is.'_

"I'm going to sound utterly stupid saying this if I'm wrong, but I don't think I am." Anders said with something like regret in his voice "You...aren't from here are you?"

'_Oh shit. No, don't ask me this. I can't lie but what can I say?'_

"Well of course she isn't from Kirkwall Anders!" Merrill exclaimed. Anders shook his head.

"I don't mean it that way Merrill and I think Mira knows what I'm talking about."

'_Oh fucking hell. What can I __**do**__? What will __**they**__ do?'_

She stood staring at the blonde mage, desperate to take back the last few minutes. She didn't want to talk about this, not to anyone. Caristianne had never found out; it had been the one thing she had been glad of, she couldn't imagine what she would have done to her if she had known.

'_I can't lie, not about this; I'd never get away with it...'_

Mira sighed and pressed the fingers of one hand across her brow bone. "Even Caristianne never cottoned on. How did you know? " She asked dejectedly.

'_Time to face it, I can't ignore it anymore. But what will change now?'_

"I have some...unusual talents and well, with you bleeding all over the place..." Anders trailed off.

"Wait, wait, wait!" Varric demanded as he stepped forward "Are you seriously telling me that Little Songbird here is, what, a Demon, Blondie?"

"What?"

The exclamation came almost simultaneously from everyone else, and they were all talking at the same time, trying to question Anders and arguing with each other. Yet through the disbelief and anger in everyone's voices what she heard in Fenris' made her gaze jump to him and the look on his face...

He looked so livid, betrayed – at her, and she felt fear pulse through her.

'_Please, this isn't my fault; I never asked for this, I never __**wanted**__ this!'_

"NO!" She yelled, and everyone was quiet.

"She's not a Demon, or even a Fade spirit." Anders said quietly "She's just...different. Her _blood_ is different."

'_Why now? Why bring this up now? Goddamnit Anders!'_

"Then what exactly _are_ you?" Fenris asked, and those green eyes were flinty and wary. And that mistrust _hurt_, because she felt close to him for no other reason than _he knew._ It had been in his eyes when she asked about his escape. He knew what it was like to be used by a Magister. And right now, alone as she was, she desperately needed to feel close to someone, _anyone_.

'_I don't want to be alone, in the dark, in pain.'_

"I'm _human_. I'm no more dangerous than any other person, and a lot _less_ than many." Mira stated, keeping her voice firm.

'_I have to convince him, them. I'm not dangerous, gods; I've never been so helpless in my life.'_

"So, how did you...get here?" Sebastian inquired.

Mira sighed.

'_This is going to go down well. They'll never believe me'_

"I don't know."

"Ha, that's convenient." Isabela snorted.

"Oh, I _know_." Mira snarled. And suddenly she was _furious. _With that arrogant, vicious, bitch Caristianne, with that lying, cheating, bastard Atlas, with Anders for bringing this up, and with herself, for letting it all_ happen_. "One minute I'm swimming in the ocean with my lover, the next I'm drowning in a storm that came out of nowhere. I know _exactly _how it sounds. Like some sort of tale. In fact it is a story where I come from. Quite a common one."

"What do you mean?" Merrill asked curiously.

'_She seems to be the only one not too bothered. I'd swear she thinks it's fascinating. I don't know whether to be thankful or worried about that.'_

"There are all sorts of stories, myths, and legends about people who end up somewhere they shouldn't be; in the realm of the dead or paradise, in the past or the future, even in different worlds. Sometimes the people in these stories try to go to these other places, but a lot of times they don't. I even remember a few where someone just falls asleep and ends up somewhere else." She explained.

"I remember an Orlesian tale about a woman who becomes trapped in her dreams..." Aveline commented.

"I _wish_ this was a dream!" Mira exclaimed "I _wish_ this wasn't real. I don't even know how long I spent there, being cut open and bled like _meat_ being hung! That isn't the worst of it! I had a _life_. I had a _family_. My mother and father, and little brother. Even Atlas. Sure he may have, on reflection, been a narcissistic _bastard, _but I didn't know it until we ended up here! And now...? I'm so utterly lost here it's almost inconceivable! I don't know anything about this place at all! And the only person I thought I knew is _dead_!"

She had been screaming, and her throat felt raw. A headache thumped in her skull to the beat of her heart. She sunk to the ground, ignoring the pain, and let her head fall on her knees. She felt drained and tired, empty.

"I _want_ to go home, but I don't think I _can_..." She whimpered quietly.

She closed her eyes in the silence, and even though she fought them back her eyes filled with tears.

'_Why is this happening to me? Why can't I wake up and this all be a dream?'_

After a seeming eternity of silence and warm wetness tracking down her cheeks she heard the rustle of cloth. Looking up she saw Hawke kneeling some distance before her. She hadn't really had the time to study the other man before now, and she took in every detail as she blinked away her tears.

His hair was dark and slightly mussed, but his beard was neatly trimmed. His nose was sharp and his jaw strong. His skin was tanned and weathered, and he had eyes the colour of rum, a light-filled brown.

"For what it's worth, I do believe you." He said softly, a gentle baritone with a hint of gravel. "If there's some way to help you I will."

She very badly wanted to believe that, but could she really trust him, trust any of them? As desperate as she was not to be alone anymore she would _not_ be used again, she'd rather die first.

'_Let's just see how this plays out, perhaps this is a chance worth taking. If it isn't, cross that bridge when you get to it.'_

"Thank you, Hawke." She said.

His smile was just a quick uplifting at the corners of his mouth, but it made him seem much younger.

Fenris sighed. "Hawke, you are far too quick to lend aid and trust. This will lead to trouble." The tone was gently chiding, but those moss eyes were sharply fixed on her.

"Don't mind him. Sometimes I don't think he trusts _anyone_, including me." Hawke said light-heartedly.

"He means well. I wouldn't believe me either." Mira shrugged, and then turned her own gaze to the elf's. "I don't expect your trust, or expect you to believe anything I've told you. But this at least is the truth; I never wanted what Caristianne did to me."

For the second time the room was filled with silence.

"Well, I don't know about anyone else but I need to get back to the barracks." Aveline finally commented.

"There's a meeting of the Merchant's Guild tonight. After last meeting I 'missed' they know to look for me here." Varric grumbled.

"Elthina will probably be worried; I should let her know we are safe." Sebastian said.

"I need a drink." Isabela stated. "Unless someone has a better offer?" She questioned flirtatiously, giving Hawke a coy glance.

"As much as would love to my _Lady of the Seas_ I have to make sure Fenris here hasn't cracked his skull." Hawke said in a voice laced with regret.

"What about you kitten, you heading back to Lowtown?" Isabela asked Merrill.

"No, thank you Isabela. I'll stay here for now and help Anders with Mira." Merrill replied.

Mira watched from the floor as they departed in a flurry of farewells. Soon it was just herself, Merrill, Anders, Fenris and Hawke left in the clinic.

"All right then Mira; time to let Anders fix you up, yes?" Hawke asked and offered her his hand to help her stand.

She took the offered hand, slightly nervous, but there was no one she could have stood without the assistance. He let go as soon as she was on her feet.

Anders approached Mira and cleared his throat uneasily.

"From what I saw when I examined you in the caves the first thing you'll need is for the wounds to be cleaned out. I will heal them with magic, but if any dirt or grit remains in the wounds and I seal it in it could fester under the skin and poison your blood." He stated.

She tensed but nodded her consent. "What do I need to do?"

Anders gestured to one of the small, closed off rooms and her heart once again began racing.

'_Be calm, just be calm.'_

"Merrill if you could set some water to boil and bring it to me with some clean cloths?" Anders asked.

Merrill nodded and walked off. Mira began to move towards the room Anders had indicated.

Anders walked with her to the room, and gestured for her to lie down on the small bed. She was grateful it was low enough for her to clamber onto it without too much effort. She settled onto her stomach with her head turned to the left to watch Anders' movements.

She sucked in a deep, calming breath. And another, and another.

'_The cloth is thin; the others can probably see the movement behind it. I don't think Merrill, and probably Hawke and maybe even Fenris would let him hurt me._'

"Come on Fenris; let me have a look at your head." Mira heard Hawke suggest beyond the cloth.

Merrill came back carrying the water and cloths, the sight of the dark haired elf calmed her greatly. She gently set the water down on a small side table as Anders walked over to her. She could feel his gaze and it made gooseflesh rise up over her skin. She heard him sigh.

"Your wounds have started scabbing over and they've stuck to your clothes, I have to get them off.''

It didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. In any case Merrill at least had seen everything she had. Anders continued, perhaps taking her lack of reaction as permission.

"I'll probably have to cut the cloth. I'm sorry, but this will hurt, a lot."

_That_ bothered her. She pushed herself up on one arm to look at the healer. He held up his hands in defence as she stared at him.

"I'm sorry, I really am. If you want, there is a...a spell. It will make you sleep." He offered.

Magic...It made her nervous; she had never experienced anything like it before now. And when she had it had been at Caristianne's hands. Letting Anders heal her was one thing...

'_You're not exactly a stranger to pain anymore, are you?'_

She lay back down on the bed.

"No spell, just do what you have to do." She said.

She could have sworn she heard Anders sigh.

"Alright, I'm starting now." The healer warned.

At first it was just the noise of the fabric being cut, and a slight tug on her skin. And then...

It felt like the skin was being ripped off. Mira jerked and slammed her forehead into to bed, pressing it down as though the pressure could block out the pain. She heard water dripping and then wet fire raced across already abused skin. She gritted her teeth and clenched her fists and willed herself to _stay still._

'_Oh hell, oh fuck, it hurts, it hurts, __**IT HURTS!**__'_

"Mira" She heard Merrill's voice and felt a soft hand grip her wrist. "Mira, you need to keep breathing."

She obeyed, sucking in air past her teeth. And then let it out in a moan as another strip was pulled off.

"Here, take this." Her hand was uncurled and something placed in her palm. It was rough and dry and alternately smooth and spiky.

Her shell. She remembered Merrill offering to keep it safe for her. She gripped it and let the pain wash through her.


	5. Sleeping Minds

**A/N: **Real life, work and family drama suck. Just to clarify I'm using the default male Garret Hawke for this fic, with the charming/humorous/sarcastic personality with hints of diplomatic/kind. Also, Hawke named his Mabari 'Griffon'.

Also, I'm gonna start earning my M rating in this chapter. Warning for some not nice stuff involving our favourite elf, OK?

As always, many thanks to Arquen for proofreading. **_She is a goddess!_**

**Discalimer: **If I owned it there wouldn't have been that stuff-up with Fenris' romance dialogue in Legacy. 

**Sleeping Minds.**

Fenris watched the Abomination lead Mira toward one of the small cloth 'rooms' in the clinic. He was conflicted, not sure if he was worried _for_ the woman or _about_ her.

Her story was..._unbelievable_ to say the least. Fenris considered himself a good judge of people and their intentions and Mira seemed both truthful and transparent. Of course there was always the chance that he was being lied to.

''_...But this at least is the truth; I never wanted what Caristianne did to me." _

The words echoed in his mind and he remembered how she had looked straight at him, into him, as she spoke. There had been truth there at least.

'_Her eyes were blue. Dark blue.'_

He had not noticed before now. In the magister's prison he had been more concerned with other things. He wondered now why he was even thinking of it. The colour of her eyes was inconsequential to his musings.

He felt Hawke at his side before the mage spoke.

"Come on, Fenris. Let me have a look at your head." Hawke said. Fenris followed their 'leader' over to a pair of stools and sat so that the taller man could examine his head.

As they sat Merrill came back with the water and cloths Anders had requested and the Dalish girl slipped into the 'room'. Through the thin cloth he could see Mira's outline lying on the bed. Fenris watched and listened, still wary for trouble even as he waited for his own treatment.

He had managed to ignore the pain in his skull during the trek back to Kirkwall, and had completely forgotten about it during Mira's admission. Now, however, the pain was working up to excruciating. It throbbed from the site of the blow and radiated down his neck.

Fenris knew he had a high tolerance to pain, a ''gift'' from the ritual, no doubt. Even so he had his limits, and he was no masochist. He waited as Hawke settled on the stool behind him and suppressed the urge to flinch away. Hawke would not touch him anymore than needed, and had always respected Fenris' aversion to contact.

'_I wonder if I will ever be free of this...fear.'_

His musings were interrupted by Anders' voice from the other room "Your wounds have started scabbing over and they've stuck to your clothes, I have to get them off.''

Either Mira's reply was too quiet for him to hear, or she simply didn't answer. Either way, the only thing he heard was Anders continuing to speak.

"I'll probably have to cut the cloth. I'm sorry, but this will hurt, a lot."

Again Mira did not answer, but he saw her silhouette sit up. He imagined that she was glaring at the mage.

"I'm sorry, I really am. If you want, there is a...a spell. It will make you sleep." He heard Anders offer.

There was silence, and he realised that Hawke was watching as well. Finally, he saw Mira's silhouette lay down once more.

"No spell. Just do what you have to do." Fenris heard her reply.

In her place he would not allow any magic other than the healing to be used upon him either.

"Alright, I'm starting now." Anders warned.

Fenris heard as the cloth of the dull, grey, robe that Mira had been wearing was cut. Listened as it was ripped off the flesh and then as the wet, clean cloth washed against raw skin. At first Mira seemed oblivious to it all, but as time went on her strength seemed to break.

Fenris turned away from the sound of her pain. He didn't...He couldn't stand to listen anymore.

'_He remembered those Danarius had bled for his magic. His former master had much enjoyed wielding the knife and whip himself sometimes, always with his faithful bodyguard by his side. The torture sessions had often left the mage...invigorated.'_

Fenris forcefully pushed the memories away. There were too many things that he wasn't yet ready to think about. Too many memories he still needed to keep at a distance in order to function.

Hawke coughed discreetly and Fenris turned his attention back to the mage, purposely ignoring any more sound from the other room. Hawke looked at him searchingly, brown eyes meeting his for a moment. Fenris offered no comment and neither did Hawke. The other man held up a hand and let it glow blue with a hint of magic for a moment; a silent question. Fenris nodded and Hawke gently placed his forefinger to Fenris' temple.

He felt the magic flow from the mage into himself. A kind of prickling warmth flowing across his skin, and into his head. His markings glowed in an uncontrollable reaction to the presence of mana, swirling lines lighting up.

He regarded the lightning-blue marks running across his arm dispassionately. They were the reason Danarius continued to hunt him, even now, after all these years. Yet without them he would not have been able to gain his freedom.

"_Thinking about this serves no purpose.'' _He told himself. "_There are other things to focus on."_

He felt a tiny spike of pain prick at the point where his skull had been struck, but it soon faded at the touch of Hawke's magic.

"Well, I did find a _little_ crack in your skull. Nothing I couldn't fix." Hawke told him as he pulled his hand away.

"Thank you, Hawke." Fenris replied and stood.

"Going back to Hightown?" The mage asked as he too stood, stretching his shoulders. Fenris nodded in reply and they began the walk through Lowtown together.

"As much as the mansion isn't really a _home_ as such I would still prefer it over a Magister's prison." Fenris said, causing Hawke to laugh.

"You _really_ need to fix that place up, or even find somewhere else. I know you 'Like the view' in Hightown but really, Fenris." Hawke said with a wheedling tone in his voice.

Fenris sighed. This was not the first time they had had this conversation and/or argument.

"I like my own space Hawke. It will do for now." He said firmly.

"Have I mentioned the word 'Estate'? The place is HUGE Fenris, even if _everyone_ moved in it'd still be _enormous. _" Hawke said persuasively.

"No." Fenris said bluntly. Hawke sighed, knowing that tone of voice, but the mage could not resist a parting shot.

"Mother worries about you, you know."

"_Garret..._" Fenris growled warningly. The use of his first name let the mage know he was going too far.

"Ok, ok. I'll stop." Hawke said soothingly, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. They walked in silence for a while, passing from Darktown into Lowtown.

"Soooooo." Hawke drawled. "Diamondback match, who would you back – Anders or Griffon?"

Fenris snorted.

"Of course your Mabari would win," he replied scathingly.

Hawke chucked. "The sad thing is that you're probably right."

The silence stretched between them a little too long for comfort. Fenris decided to break it.

"What are you going to do about Mira, Hawke?" He asked.

"I said I would help her."

"And what if you can't? What if she isn't even telling the truth?" Fenris asked, frustrated.

"I think she _is_, and yes, I know you think I'm being too trusting. But I'm willing to give her a chance, and so should you." Hawke replied.

"Do you even know what you are getting yourself into Hawke? She was a slave."

"_Was_, Fenris, '_was'_ is the important part. Besides, you can help her with that, can't you?"

"Hawke, when you and I met I had been on the run for three years already. I also escaped on my own, with luck mostly. Mira was rescued. You have no idea... " Fenris sighed.

"Not everyone is like you Fenris."

"I know _that_." Fenris said in frustration. Hawke simply didn't get it.

'_How do I even begin to explain this?'_

"Look Fenris, let's just concentrate on the here and now, alright? Just take it one day at a time?" Hawke asked.

"We may not be able to, Hawke." Fenris replied.

This time the silence between them remained.

* * *

><p>Fenris kicked the door to the mansion shut, causing a cloud of dust to fall from the high ceiling. He sighed. As much as he danced around the subject, Hawke was right, his "home" was falling apart.<p>

'_But what other option did he have?'_

He speculated as he strode through the corridors into the main room.

'_In many ways, I trust Hawke. But to live in close proximity with others, even in a house so large? No.'_

He didn't think he could do it. Even after seven years as his own man Fenris still rigorously guarded his privacy, his solitude. He wasn't sure he could give it up. And this was _his_ home, dilapidated as it was.

Fenris could not remember having a home before.

He enjoyed Hawke's company. Enjoyed walking and chatting with the mage as they had made their way home in the fading light of the sunset.

He ascended the huge curving stairs of his mansion, the floorboards creaking warningly under his feet. Dust and grit sticking to the soles as he made his way to the back room where he technically "lived."

He remembered fighting Shades and Demons in this room with Hawke, Varric and Carver. Back when he had thought Danarius was still in the mansion. When he had been _so sure_ that his quest for true freedom was ending.

Fenris pulled Lethendralis from its sheath and leaned it against the bed, making sure it would always be ready at hand.

'_So much has changed since then.'_ He mused as he pulled off his gauntlets, chest plate, and shoulder pads, laying them next to his bed.

'_I never thought I could even __**stand**__ a mage, let alone __**trust**__ one.'_ Then came Hawke. Hawke, with his deceptively jovial personality, his openness and willingness to trust. He had broken through at least a few of the carefully constructed barriers Fenris had put around himself.

Fenris knew from the first moment that Hawke was a strong mage. Although he hadn't trusted him back then, he did owe the mage a debt for his help. He offered his services and Hawke had accepted. In some ways it felt like Fenris would never be able to repay that debt. He clearly owed the mage more than he could have imagined.

Armor gone, Fenris stripped down and pulled on the loose pants he slept in, pulled back the coverlet on his small bed and collapsed into it.

Hawke's expedition into the Deep Roads had been a success, despite Varric's brother Bartrand betraying them and also at the cost of Carver being sent to the Grey Wardens. Though he had not gone into the Darkspawn infested hole; Hawke had still thanked Fenris for his help over the year and had, subtly, asked him to remain.

And so far he had.

Why had he stayed so long? He was not foolish enough to think that Danarius would leave him be. He had, however, given the mage pause by attacking him directly. Besides, now he had companions. He was no longer a lone slave. There was advantage in numbers. It was almost certain that Danarius was having to re-think his strategy, and Fenris still had his own.

However, Caristianne had known of him. Enough to recognise him by sight alone. That worried him. Did he now have to contend with not only his former master, but every other power-hungry sadist mage in Tevinter, too?

'_They know what I am, let them come. If they find the courage.'_

He would _never _submit again. He was no one's pet any longer.

His thoughts turned to Mira. What of her? He had no doubt of what she had gone through. The only question was how she had gotten there. She was not broken, but neither was she whole anymore.

It worried him. She might seem calm now, but once the pain of her injuries was taken away, and some of her energy restored she would no longer be. It was then that the true consequences of what happened to her would hit.

He had seen it, in others who had been made slaves as adults, instead of being born into it. It was rarely pleasant, and often...messy.

And what _had_ been done to her? The bleeding was only a part of it, he was sure. Caristianne seemed to prefer breaking people with words, but had she employed other methods as well? Had she kept Mira's torture to herself, as her own "playtime," or had she invited others to join?

It was...disquieting.

'_But enough of these thoughts. Perhaps Varric had a point about his brooding after all. His mind never seemed to let him rest.'_

Fenris climbed into the bed, relaxing into the mattress as best he could. Making sure his gear was within arm's reach just in case. His nightly ritual. He closed his eyes and listened. It had been a long day, and soon his breathing slowed as sleep claimed him.

**The blood had been red, so very, very red. He had never seen anything that was such a vibrant colour. **

**The slave had been a tiny, brunette male. Pitifully thin in his nakedness. Rib, hip and collarbones sharp and stark even in the dim light.**

**His master had flayed the slave mercilessly. Through the boy's screams and tears, until he just hung limp; the blood dripping down his pale skin.**

**Fenris considered that he could be that slave. That if any time his master felt he was no longer valuable he more than likely would be that slave.**

**The coppery tang of blood still lingered on his tongue and in his nose. Fenris felt like the smell had stuck to his skin. Like the body of that poor boy was in the room with them, still bleeding out as he died.**

**Danarius seemed to feel the same sentiment. As the door to his master's decadent quarters closed behind them he grinned and held out a hand to his bodyguard**

"**Come here, Fenris."**

**He hated this, hated it so much. Refusing was unthinkable, so he went, moving to the magister and allowing the hand to curl around the back of his neck, closing his eyes to try and block out what was happening. His stomach churned.**

"**Good, Fenris, good." Danarius purred.**

**He could feel the magister's breath on his neck, then his tongue licking across his throat. Fenris shivered despite the heat from Danarius as he pulled him closer, pressed up against him...**

Fenris was up and out of the bed before his eyes even opened, his hand instinctively grabbing Lethendralis and his heart racing in his chest.

He sucked air in through his nose, inhaling deeply, holding and exhaling slowly.

'_A nightmare, that's all it was. It cannot hurt you. Not anymore.'_

He slowly became aware of the noise that must have awoken him. Someone was pounding on the door and calling out.

"Fenris! Fenris are you there? Fenris!" It was Hawke's voice. He made his way downstairs and pulled open the door, and Hawke nearly fell in, arm raised to continue knocking.

"Hawke?" Fenris said, looking at the mage.

Outside it was still dark, a sliver of moon still high. What could Hawke possibly need at this hour?

Hawke regained his balance, and Fenris saw that he was in disarray. Hair even more messy than usual and wearing the same robes as yesterday.

"Mira's gone missing." Hawke said, his voice low and serious.


	6. Distress

**A/N:** Ah, how I love spring -flowers, baby animals, massive lightning storms the prevent me from using my computer... Grrrrr.

As always, praise the Beta Goddess Arquen, She who corrects grammer and spelling, who fills plotholes and delivers us from Writers Block.

**Disclaimer: **Nothing is mine. I also don't own 'If This Ship Sinks (I Give In)' by Birds of Tokyo.

**Chapter 6. Distress.**

Mira snapped awake, fully aware as always. She was lying on her front, head twisted to the left.

She'd fallen asleep to the soothing yet terrifyingly familiar feel of magic pouring into her, as Anders healed her wounds.

After the agony of having them cleaned she had been grateful to lose consciousness.

Now, for the first time in...Weeks? Months? _Years? _Her mind was clear of pain and terror.

And then it all crashed down on her like the vengeance of the Gods, and she wished for the fog of pain and fear again.

Her spine jerked her into the fetal position, her hands plastering themselves over her eyes as if they could keep out the horror of returning memories.

'_Oh gods...'_

Fuck, it was real. Atlas, Caristianne...She was lost, she was _gone._

'_No, no, no, no, it can't be real, this can't be real!'_

She threw back the patched blanket covering her and scrambled out of the trestle bed, feeling cold night air hit her skin.

'_Dreams don't feel, they don't hurt...No!'_

Worn, but clean underclothes, a tunic, and a pair of leggings were neatly folded on the rickety bedside table/stool. Mira pulled them on with trembling hands. Her broken nails catching on the cloth and her skin, making her twitch with pain.

Finally dressed, she began to pace around the bed in the small room. Her feet matching the frantic rhythm of her thoughts. She automatically reached for her shell, trying to soothe herself by running the pads of her fingers across the surface.

'_Breathe, think.'_

She stopped pacing and sucked in a lungful of air and held it as she tried to collect her thoughts.

'_So, I'm trapped in some sort of fantasy world. Mages and Dwarves and Elves, oh my.' _

And if that last thought wasn't evidence that she wasn't coping Mira would eat a shoe. She slumped back onto the cot, cradling her shell in her lap and stroking the worn, chalky sides.

'_Why am I here? Someone, something tell me what I'm supposed to __**do**__?'_

Her gut twisted and she had to stop herself from gripping her shell too tight.

'_And that is so sad. All I have that I care about anymore is the outgrown house of an ocean crustacean.'_

She wanted to go _home_. She wanted to see her brother and her parents. She wanted to be back where things made _sense_. She just wanted one familiar thing...

She sighed, inhaling through her nose and she caught a scent she recognised...

Salt, water, sand...

She stood, and pulled aside the curtain of her little room. Her feet began moving her across the floor to the end of the main room, and only at the doorway did she pause.

Mira took in another deep breath. She could still smell it, and now she realized she could also hear it.

Beyond Anders's clinic huge tunnels stretched out into the dark, barely lit with lanterns and weak moonlight.

She felt the breeze brush her left cheek and looked. Instead of tunnel walls she could only see darkness, with a haphazard, waist-high, barrier of half rotted wood and rusty metal spikes.

She walked toward the barrier and the smell and noise became stronger. A thin sliver of night sky hung like a ribbon far above her.

Mira looked down, and saw the sea.

'_One familiar thing.'_

Way down below her the waves crashed onto sea carved jagged rocks.

And seeing it again, the thing that had brought her here...Mira felt so drained.

'_Hawke said he'd help...But it's obvious this isn't something that anyone knows about. What if he can't help me? I can't...I can't stay here.'_

She had no place here, no purpose. This was a world far removed from anything she knew, or could even imagine. She couldn't survive here; her time in Caristianne's clutches had taught her that.

She bowed her head.

'_I have to get home...But how?'_

She mentally went through all the stories and folk tales she could remember. Only one stood out in her memory; a story where you could only return home the way you had left.

'_But I got here...by drowning...'_

What if it was the only way?

'_I've just spent...too long to remember...being tormented and tortured by a cruel, heartless bitch of a mage, because apparently my blood is __**different**__... '_

What if she ended up in the same situation? She wanted to trust Hawke and the others, but trust wasn't so easy anymore.

_The man I loved... who I thought loved me... __**sold me**_. _He gave me to someone for... what?... money!_

What if they were simply waiting for her to drop her guard? What if? What if? What if?

'_I won't go back! I won't!'_

She remembered screaming for Atlas as Caristianne's guards dragged her away, the bland look he had given her, like he couldn't care less. She remembered the lash striking her back for the first time, the burning agony striping across her skin. Panic flowed throughout her heart and along her limbs. She couldn't breathe...

'_I have to get out of here...'_

She ran. She followed the one thing she could recognise – the ocean below her.

She ran through corridors and tunnels, trying to find her way to the open sea.

Inwardly, where a small voice of reason tried to make itself heard, she knew it was idiotic. Where the hell did she think she was going? She didn't know where she was, and had no idea where she was heading. She most certainly would end up lost, or run herself into even more trouble.

The blind panic, desperation, and denial were in charge now, though.

Then suddenly, after a charge up a flight of stairs that made her thighs ache, she was out underneath the stars. A tiny sliver of moon floating above.

She stopped, bent over as she gasped for air. Finally, she looked up. The whole area seemed to be carved out of a pale pink stone. Before her a set of tiny stairs led into the dark water. She shivered in the cold wind and walked towards them.

'_Am I really going to do this?'_

The scent of the ocean was stronger, filled out with wet wood, rope and fish. She could hear the waves. She walked forward, step by step, until she stood at the top of the stairs.

Panic had drained, leaving misery in its wake.

'_Yes.'_

It was so quiet here, nothing but the lapping sound of the waves. Mira hated the quiet, she always had; it was why she sang all the time.

'_Well then, one last one? My swan song...I think I know just the one.'_

"_**I'm trying to get my head straight...I'm playing in a game that I can't win...I started in the wrong place...A slap to the cold face of love...I wanna stop this god damn beating heart...It's killing me..."**_

She'd thought this through, and this seemed like her only option. She couldn't exist here, she just didn't fit. Either she'd find her way home...or it wouldn't matter any longer.

"_**This is killing me..."**_

A small hexagon of stone seemed to serve as a pillar of sorts. Mira gently placed her shell on it, a maker of her last moments.

"_**I'm trying to get my head straight...I didn't see the warning signs ahead...I'm feeling like a dead weight long gone...If I could make it all right I would...I never thought I'd say these things to you...And it's killing me..."**_

Dead weight; that's all she was now, useless encumbrance. She had to get home, or die trying.

"_**This is killing me..."**_

She didn't want to die, given her choice.

"_**I can't stop this train I can't get off...But I can't go back I've come too far to stop..."**_

'_My life...it's gone off without me...No family, no friends, or lover; there's nothing left...And I need to get it back.'_

"_**There's too many signs to read them all...There's too many roads I need to stumble down..."**_

This world, it was too strange, too far from what she knew. She couldn't function here.

"_**I've gotta get my head straight...I never thought a day like this would come...I'll never be the same way as once...I wanna know if this is for real...I've gotta know what fate has planned for me..."**_

If someone had told her this would happen...Gods, she would have laughed.

'_And now, I'll never be the same. I've always needed to know where I am and where I'm going. I can't have that anymore.'_

"_**I give in..."**_

She stood there watching the waves softly lap against the stone.

"_**I give in..."**_

She was still shaking, and now not just with the cold.

"_**I give in...I give in..."**_

Mira took her first step down towards the water.

"_**Believe me when I say..."**_

'_I have to do this; I don't know what else to do...I truly think this is my only option.'_

Mira walked down one small step.

"_**There's something I wish I could say..."**_

She thought about Merrill, the elven girls' sweet smile, about Sebastian and how kind he had been, Varric's gentle humor...

She took another step.

"_**You were always so good to me..."**_

She remembered Isabela's quick grin, Anders's concern as he healed her.

'_I'm so sorry; I know you tried to help me...'_

Another step and she was at the water's edge.

"_**Even when it's so hard to be..."**_

She recalled Fenris giving her courage in Caristianne's prison and Hawke offering his help in Anders's clinic.

'_You trusted me, maybe you shouldn't have...'_

She stood on the first water-covered step, cold water swirled around her feet.

"_**I sailed myself too far out to sea..."**_

This time she took two more steps, the cold water biting into her calves.

'_The water is freezing...'_

Already she couldn't feel her feet.

"_**On favoured whims that won't sing for me..."**_

She wondered how or why this had happened as she waded further into the dark waves.

'_Did I do something? Or is it just bad luck?'_

"_**They'll be no rescue no finding me..."**_

She could only hope that Hawke and the others would believe that she had disappeared, that she had been lying all along. She didn't want them to mourn her, it wasn't any of their faults.

"_**As I become an old memory..."**_

'_Just forget me. Some girl you found with a crazy story. All just a trick. A lie.'_

By now the water was over her hips. She let her hands float on the surface, looking out at the gentle mirror of the night sky.

"_**You once knew...You once knew..."**_

'_Forgive me.'_

She took a breath, and stepped past the safety of the stairs, into the depths.

Gods, the water was _so fucking cold_.

She closed her eyes and struck out, swimming downward, lungs already protesting.

_It's silent as I sink into the sea..._

The water washed into her ears, muting outside sounds, but her heartbeat became loud, overwhelming everything. She needed to get deep enough.

_Weightless as the tide carries me..._

She felt slight currents, helping pull her down. Her lungs were burning now, and she could feel her own body rebelling, trying to float. She couldn't feel her arms or legs anymore, but still she swam, pushing herself further down into the water.

_To darker water where I believe..._

She kept going, even though her limbs were getting so heavy, and her lungs were screaming for air.

_Something's down here waiting for me..._

Maybe this _would_ take her home? At the least she would go away.

_The numbing cold is taking from me..._

It felt like time was standing still down here, she wasn't sure how long she'd been in the water, only that the world seemed to be fading away and that she was surprisingly fine with that.

_Everything I'm so far beneath..._

She couldn't fight the need to breathe anymore, but only sucked in cold water. Her lungs stung with it and she convulsed, trying to cough and breathe.

_My eyes they open one last time to see..._

She heard a muted splash as something heavy hit the water above her. Mira opened her eyes and looked up.

_You are staring right back me... _

A shock of white, and her vision was filled with green.

'_Fenris?'_

She distantly felt the pressure on her numb wrist, her arms being tugged and she was moving up instead of down.

Her straining lungs automatically took a breath as her head broke the surface, desperately gasping in much needed air of their own volition.

Her arm was yanked harshly and it was either go back up the dock stairs or be dragged up them. She stumbled on nerveless legs, but the vice-grip on her wrist didn't let go.

Only when she was up the last of the stairs was she let go, falling limply to the ground.


	7. Little Things

**A/N: **Ummmm, hi guys! *ducks rocks and sharp objects* I know, I know! I'm soooo sorry - I really really am! Reallife-itis has had me in it's awful grasp. But I'm back now and I come bearing a chapter! So after this exceptionaly long break please enjoy.

**Disclaimer: **I own nothing - NOTHING!

Also, my fabulos and wonderful Beta Arquen has also been infected by the dreaded Reallife-itis; so for the foreseeable future this fic is now un-beta'd - So if you see a mistake or think something different should have happened or someone gets OOC please let me know. Con-crit is my friend.

Onward!

**Little Things.**

Fenris replayed the short conversation with Hawke in his mind as he made his way through the night time shadows of Hightown.

"_Mira's gone missing." Hawke said; his voice low and serious._

For a moment what Hawke had said hadn't registered in Fenris' mind, the Mage might as well have told him "the purple cats have gone swimming" for all the sense it made.

But finally his mind realised what his ears had heard. And his sleep-fogged brain had cleared instantly.

'_This is exactly what I had feared might happen.' _Was his first thought, quickly followed by _'Has she run away, or escaped?'_

"_How long has she been gone for?" He asked Hawke._

"_I don't know!" The Mage replied. "Anders woke up and she was just gone, after he came and got me he went back to Darktown to keep looking."_

"_Was anything taken?" _He had asked Hawke, knowing it would be a true indication of Mira's real intentions.

The Mage must have caught on to his musing and shook his head as he answered.

"_A set of clothes Anders had left for when she woke, and her shell, nothing else."_

It was somehow worse, Fenris mused as he strode through the Hightown market and down the flight of stairs that led to the Lowtown bazaar.

'_A thief and a liar disappearing after a successful con is one thing, but a newly freed slave, from another world no less, alone, traumatised and frightened...'_

He hurried through Lowtown's alleys, an icy night time breeze viciously clawing into the gaps in his armour. Even if Mira didn't intend to do something drastic, Kirkwall nights were not safe. Fenris knew that well and he was worried.

He was also angry; she should never have had the _chance_ to do something so stupid! And she should have known better.

"_Was he not watching her? Was anybody?" Fenris had asked Hawke incredulously._

'_Surely even Anders has the presence of mind to keep a watchful eye on someone so obviously unbalanced? But, no, that would indicate common sense now wouldn't it?'_

He silently cursed the Abomination as he descended from Lowtown into the Docks.

"_No." The Mage had answered. "Anders thought she would sleep through the night given her state of exhaustion and weakness."_

_Fenris had sighed and shook his head._

"_And if she had woken?" He had asked. "It is more likely than not that she would be plagued by nightmares..."_

_Fenris stopped himself there, Mira was missing and time was wasting...and Hawke was giving him a knowing look, but Fenris didn't want to discuss this, especially on the heels of his latest nightmare._

'_**Not a nightmare, a memory.' **_

_He had mentally pushed the thought away and refocused his attention on the situation at hand._

"_I suppose you have a plan?" He asked, already knowing the answer. It was one of the reasons Hawke was the leader, one of the reasons that Fenris trusted him – Hawke was good at plans._

"_I'm going to the Keep to get Aveline and see if she can put out an alert for Mira with her men, and then I'll start searching Lowtown with Griffon, maybe he can catch her scent from Anders's clinic."_

"_What do you need me to do?" Fenris asked. Hawke had run a hand through his already dishevelled hair._

"_Anders is already searching Darktown, but we don't know how far she may have gotten, can you search the Docks?" He had asked._

_Fenris had nodded his approval of the plan and went back upstairs to his room to dress as Hawke hurried away to the Viscount's Keep._

Fenris paused at the entrance to the Docks, the Qunari compound to his left, the Dockmasters office to his right. He was grateful the Qunari kept their space guarded and gated; there was no telling what trouble Mira could get into with them.

The Dockmasters office was similarly guarded, this time by a pack of Mabari hounds. As he approached the entrance he was growled at warningly, but the dogs seemed undisturbed. No one had been there this night it seemed.

Fenris was left with two choices – Left or right? Both avenues mostly contained warehouses, few of them very secure. The closest entrance from Darktown was to his right, but how far had Mira managed to get?

Fenris chose to go right, and later he would wonder in idle moments whether providence or luck had been involved that night.

He moved along the cold street, trying each door he came to. None yielded to him. He didn't think Mira could pick locks, nor was she strong enough to force a door open. He came to the end of the lane where the tunnel entrance to Darktown was, and still there was no sign of Mira.

'_Where is the Makers name could she have gotten to?'_

He huffed in frustration and turned to keep searching when he saw it, placed on a plinth next to one of the many small sets of stairs that led into the ocean.

Glowing faintly in the sliver of moonlight was Mira's shell. His gaze was drawn to the water of Kirkwall's harbour.

Fenris could still see the faint ripples in the water, as if it had been disturbed a while ago and had not yet settled. A horrible premonition settled into his mind like a spike of ice.

'_Venhedis!'_

He pulled Lethendalis from its sheath and dropped it with a clatter as he ran down the stairs into the water, diving straight into the depths.

The icy water nearly pushed the air right from his lungs, but Fenris held his breath and swam down through the dark water, pushing against the natural instinct to float. He kept his eyes open despite the stinging from the salt water.

He swam down into the darkness, scanning for a darker shadow in the water, the flash of a limb, _anything_.

And finally he saw it, a small, pale, hand floating beneath him, Fenris pulled himself closer through the water and a pair of deep blue eyes in a colourless face looked up at him from a swirl of dark hair.

He grabbed Mira's wrist tightly and kicked upwards, heading for the surface with the woman in tow. He heard her gasp and begin to cough when they broke the surface but he didn't stop, swimming to the steps and hauling her up them, yanking her along when her legs nearly gave out under her.

Only when they were at the top of the steps, distanced from the water did Fenris finally release his unyielding grip on Mira's wrist and she fell in a heap on the dock, still gasping for air.

He let her, listening dispassionately. Water streamed down off her hair and clothes to puddle on the dock. And inside Fenris seethed; Mira had run out into the night time dangers of a city she knew nothing about, and had then tried to _kill_ herself.

"_What were you thinking?_" He snarled.

Mira was coughing so hard she started to retch and her heart was thudding so hard in her chest she was sure it was going to burst out of her. Finally her lungs got the idea that, yes, there was enough air, and she could breathe properly again.

Just in time to hear her rescuers venomous question.

"_What were you thinking?_"

Mira closed her eyes in defeat.

'_Fenris...Shit, this was definitely not the plan.'_

Granted it had never been a well-thought through plan, and given the evidence she was faced with it hadn't been working at all, but still...

"I asked you a question." The elf's gravelly voice was ice cold and calm and that was somehow worse than if he had ranted and raged.

She risked look at him. And unbidden the small, insane part of her mind that noticed stupid things thought to itself _Oh, wow, soaking wet elf...Eat your heart out Jane Austin._

'_Shut up, shut up, shut up you moronic piece of brain matter!'_

"This...isn't exactly what it looks like, really." Mira finally answered.

'_That is possibly the __**stupidest **__thing you have ever said.'_

"Really..." One dark eyebrow arched, and she had never seen an expression that so perfectly said 'I do not believe one fucking word you say'.

"I was trying to go _home_." She explained. She wanted to make him understand why, why this was so important.

"And you thought that you could get there from the bottom of the Kirkwall harbour?" he questioned incredulously.

"Yes. I thought about it and it seemed like the best option, you know, go back the way I came..." She trailed off.

His face didn't really change all that much, but his eyes narrowed and his jaw tightened as he took a step forward, towering over her.

"You _thought_ about it? I cannot see any way in which you applied any sort of intelligence to this...this plan!"He spat the word out like an epithet.

And it was all too much. She was freezing, soaking wet in the cold air. Her body ached, her eyes itched and her mouth tasted of salt _and she was still here!_

"Fine - **Fine**! So I _was_ expecting to die as much as I was expecting to get home, and truly either option kind of worked for me! I. Can't. Stay. Here. Alright? And no one made you dive in after me, you barely bloody know me, so why the fuck do you care Fenris?" Mira yelled up at the elf standing over her.

His face lost the murderous look and smoothed out, and from the way his eyes had widened she thought maybe she'd shocked him. He looked away for a moment before he answered.

"It is...To kill oneself is a sin in the eyes of the Maker." He said as his eyes swung back to her.

Mira scoffed, causing a protest from her stinging throat, when she finally managed to stop coughing she glared at Fenris.

"They say it takes one to know one, and I've never been particularly devout, especially to Gods I've never heard of, and you don't strike me as a seriously pious person. So try again Fenris. Why do you care?"

There was silence, nothing but a sound of the waves and crickets and water still dripping of the both of them. After a while Mira thought Fenris might simply walk away.

And then he sighed and lowered himself to sit beside her, cross legged on the cold stone. He held his arm out to her, palm up so that the moonlight caught the strange raised marking that swirled across his skin. The light made them almost _glow_.

"Do you know what these are?" Fenris asked her.

"No. They_ kind_ of look like tattoos but..." She trailed off as Fenris pulled his arm back. He stared out to sea as he began to speak.

"They are Lyrium. Raw magic, only certain Dwarves can mine it safely, as long as it doesn't get into the bloodstream. For Elves and Humans the effects of Lyrium are...Disastrous, both physically and mentally. Mages can only use a refined, watered down version; contact with unrefined Lyrium will kill them." Fenris paused for a moment and then continued.

"My former master, Danarius...Had me undergo a ritual that placed Lyrium under my skin. It is what gives me my...abilities...And is the only reason I am free today."

"I...I'm really sorry...Fenris..." But the elf only shook his head at her words.

"I do not want pity, yours or anyone else's. I am trying to explain, why I care. My freedom cost me, dearly. The...agony the ritual caused wiped away my memories. When I woke up I didn't know who or where I was. It was Danarius who gave me the name 'Fenris'. I don't know what my name was, even now."

His hands had clenched so hard the knuckles were white, and Mira wondered if he had even noticed.

"What I am trying to say is...I understand what it is to have nothing Mira. To be alone and frightened, but I also know these obstacles can be overcome. I do not wish to see you throw that away. Especially when so few get the chance that you gave been given."

He looked at her, and she stared back at him, unable to think. His still wet fringe was stuck to his face, framing his eyes. And against the stark whiteness they were so green...She unthinkingly reached up a hand to brush away a few strands that were nearly in his eyes.

Fenris' arm came up defensivly and both he and Mira jerked away from each other. Fenris recovered first and coughed in an almost embarrassed manner.

"I...apologise. After the pain of the ritual I find it difficult to accept physical contact." He explained as he began to stand up.

"Oh." Mira paused while an inner voice berated her as Fenris turned and reached down to grab his sword and slide it back into its sheath.

'_What in the seven hells was that! What are you doing woman?'_

"So, um. What do we do now?" She asked after some of her embarrassment faded, aware that the question went deeper than it seemed.

His smile was quick, a quirk of his lips that fled almost as soon as it came, and he turned and reached down again, this time handing her what he had picked up.

Her shell. She stared at it.

"Little things." She thought she heard Fenris whisper.


End file.
